Gentlemanly Remedies
by Querel
Summary: When John gets sick and there's no one around to take care of him, there's one boy who knows exactly how to fix him right up again. Secondary Pairing #1 in Querel's Shipping Wall.


More than anything, John didn't want to wake up. He'd already done that enough this week and wasn't in any hurry to ever do it again. But it kept happening and with every withdrawal from unconsciousness, absolute misery crashed right down on him.

The first thing was the fact that he couldn't' breathe. His mouth would be slacked open with a droolstain on his pillow just so he could get air to his brain. So after sitting up and coughing like he was about to upchuck his lungs, the pressure would start building. His sinuses would swell up and make his temples throb and his nose ache.

And then the taste…. Ugh, it was like waking up after lying face-down in a pile of hot, juicy dead things. So gross…. And no matter how much he brushed his teeth and gagged on his toothbrush from cleaning his tongue, John continued to hack up yellow, rotted, bloody mucous for the rest of the day.

So, no, he didn't want to wake up. Not like that. At least while he was still asleep, he couldn't feel how much everything sucked.

He dragged himself to school on Monday morning and then promptly went to the nurse after he almost passed out in gym class. His dad came and took him to the doctor where John was informed that the name of waking nightmare was 'sinus infection.'

John was taken straight home and fussed over for a while. He had to convince his dad to not worry about him. Sure, he was supposed to leave for a business trip that evening but John would be fine. All he had to do was sleep and heat up cans of soup when he got hungry. Easy enough. One of the nice things about being thirteen was that his Dad trusted him to be by himself when he went on these trips now. The only reason he was hesitant was due to John's illness.

So, on Tuesday, John woke up again (unfortunately) only this time to an empty house. He forced himself to get out of bed and scrounge a bowl of cereal together so he could choke down some medicine. He glued himself to the couch, stuck watching children's shows because the remote was too far away and he couldn't find any desire in himself to get up.

And right when he was finally tuning out Blue's Clues and falling asleep on the couch, the door opened.

Well, no, it didn't open. It was practically kicked off its hinges.

"Well, Egbert, old chum, I've heard that you're feeling under the weather! Not to worry! I've just the nick for that!"

John blinked, his heart calming from its seizure of panic, and he glared at his intruder.

"Jake...get out of my house."

"Not a chance!" Jake set down the brown paper bag he was carrying so he could set the door to rights again and then went over to John, giving him a once-over. "No way could I leave my little buddy when you're in such a decrepit condition. I mean, golly, John, have you seen what you look like?"

"Like I need to take a nap?" John grumbled.

"And then some!" Jake reached over and ruffled John's hair before popping right up again and going to fetch the bag that he'd deposited. "So you stay put and relax while I go about the business of restoring you to full health."

"Jake, please, go away and let me sleep." John pulled the afghan over his head and curled as deep as he could into the corner of the couch.

"Sleep later," Jake called from the kitchen. "When you're ready for it."

"I'm ready for it now, dammit."

John should've known, really. Like hell his dad would really take off without making sure John wasn't being taken care of. Not that John really thought that his older and mildly obscure relative was the best caretaker. At least he was tenacious, though. Tenacious enough to skip school and look after John.

Jake had always been John's favorite cousin. He was a strange guy with an accent and colloquialisms that John could never quite wrap his mind around or put a name to. He and John looked remarkably similar. John would often wonder if he would grow up to be like the tall, well-muscled teenager with a smile that would never fail to make everyone around him grin.

Jake was a great story teller, which was one of the things John loved the most about him. He had so many tales from his days growing up in the Pacific Rim. Adventures that John wished that he could've shared in. Jake seemed to have a new one to retell every time John asked. So that, along with the hours and hours they could spend talking about great movies together helped bump Jake up to one of John's favorite people in the world.

But not right now, when all John wanted to do was sleep forever and not wake up again.

Luckily, Jake wasn't being too disruptive now that his grand entrance was over. He bumbled about in the kitchen with the rustlings of that paper bag and some pots on the stove. The TV still chattered with soft voices of cartoons made for preschoolers but all together, John fell easily under the tug a lull of the quiet noise.

But he had to wake up again. This time, it was Jake's firm hand on his shoulder, shaking him just a little, while he murmured low for John to open his eyes.

"Come on, now," he coaxed. "I got something good for you."

John groaned and tugged the blanket over his head. He heard Jake chuckle and then he suddenly found himself being lifted. Jake pulled him up off the couch and held him close before settling down in the same spot and putting John in his lap.

"Jake, wha—"

"Sit up," he said. "There's a lad…come on."

John wiggled around a bit until he was sitting in the cross of Jake's legs, his shoulders resting against that broad chest and his head tucked against Jake's neck.

"Whaaaaat," he whined.

"Hush. Drink this." Jake took a mug from the coffee table and put it into John's hands before covering the both of them with a new blanket. This one was soft. Unlike any blanket John had ever slept under. But he couldn't think about sleeping, not with a mug of hot water in his hands.

But it wasn't just water. It smelled good and was colored a peachy red.

"What is it?" John asked, bringing the warm ceramic to his face and taking a deeper inhale. It was sweet…like candied oranges and some sort of flower.

"It's tea," Jake told him. "English family brew. It does wonders for sore throats and tired eyes. Drink it down, then. I made it sweet for you." Jake patted John's leg and started flicking through channels with the remote he brought over until he stopped on a showing of The Fifth Element.

John drank. The hot liquid was a blessing on his over-abused throat. The taste…the smell of it spread through him, from his stomach, where it warmed him to his pallet where the flavor of chamomile and citrus lingered, washing away the deadness in his mouth. The tang of ginger eased the slight nausea John hadn't even realized he was nursing.

By the time the cup was empty, John was sleepier than ever and very much ready to have that nap. Jake was warm, though. His long arms were wrapped around John's middle and the steady rise and fall of his chest against John's back was soothing.

It was…really nice. John blamed the warmth in his cheeks on the fever.

"Can I sleep here?" John asked, handing the empty mug back to Jake when the older boy had reached for it.

"I insist that you do," Jake said, putting the mug aside. "When you wake up, I'll make supper for us both, mh?"

"Mmh," John agreed. Jake's arms went right back around him, keeping him still and secure as John settled into a more sleep-conducive recline and drifted off.

His dreams were gentle. Like drifting spirals of color. Like half-and-half poured on top of black coffee or blood in pool water. They twisted in and curled in ways that made sense only in that realm of between. Where understanding was forfeit and experience was the only meaning of existence.

John dreamed in these colors that came from nowhere and meant nothing. But they touched him. They smoothed along his skin in warm, firm strokes. They kept him close and safe and loved. He knew these colors were for him. But it wasn't about knowing, it was about being.

John was. He was happy.

But not when he woke up. He woke up sore and sweaty and headachy. And hard.

John froze. Jake's arms were relaxed, resting on top of John's as they were placed in his own lap. If he moved them, Jake would notice. But he had to get up. Sitting here with Jake's body pressed against him was not helping the problem.

John squirmed a bit, uncomfortable and trying to get Jake's hands away from where they might discover his compromising state. When he tried to escape, though, he was impeded. Jake, who had apparently fallen asleep as well, tightened his hold on John, tugging him closer.

John squeaked; Jake nuzzled his face into the sweaty damp of John's neck and John shuddered. A murmur, a breath against his skin. Strong fingers gripping at his stomach and…Jesus Christ, Jake was hard too. Obviously, he was still sleeping, but the push against John's ass was unmistakable.

The horrifying part of it all was that even though having his cousin grind on him in his sleep was a situation John never envisioned himself being in, now that he was there, the fact was that it was doing more to encourage his hard-on than kill it.

John pinched the inside of his cheek between his teeth. Try as he might, he couldn't pull himself from Jake's hold. What chance did a skinny, prepubescent gaming nerd have against a sixteen-year-old wild child from the land of jungles and ferocious beasts?

Okay…okay, fine. Plan B then.

John elbowed Jake as hard as he could.

"Jake, lemme go!"

"Augh!" Jake did let go. But with the sudden release and John's desperation combined with the fact that he was still exhausted, the younger boy fell right to the ground, knocking his head on the coffee table for his trouble.

"Dammit!"

"Oh, John, are you alright?" Jake scrambled to collect John off the floor.

"No, no, don't…!"

Despite the fact that injury had pretty much killed John's boner, the same could not be said for Jake, who was just as obvious as he was a second ago. Who was now pressing himself against John as he tried to get him back to the position John attempted to flee from.

"Oh, dear…," John heard, the gust gentle against his ear.

"Y-yeah…." John took a deep breath and took a moment to be hyperaware of how hot he was. His shirt was sticking to his back from the sweat that coated his skin. He couldn't find the words to say. The seconds until Jake would let him go didn't seem to end.

…probably because they never did.

The soft, wet shift of Jake swallowing ghosted in John's ear just as there was the tiny nudge of Jake's nose against his neck. John shivered, hands going to his lap where the arousal started overtaking the pain again. The scent…. The warm tones of the Old Spice and the odd but welcome aroma of sun-warmed earth that was Jake English…. It wrapped around John like invisible fingers caressing his face.

The younger boy closed up, pressing his knees together and leaning in to try and make himself as small as possible. And then Jake did let go.

"Oh, John," Jake whispered in a sort of horror. "My god, I'm sorry! I…I don't know how to…."

John sat on the edge of Jake's knees, feeling sick and shaky. So…what, did Jake like him? Like him…like _that_? Well...yeah, must be. Your bro didn't just hold you to his boner and sniff your hair for nothing. Oh, god, that sounded awful, even in his head.

And what, John liked him too? Well, if the recovered hardness in his pants was any indication…. Ugh. John didn't want to think. Thinking was making his head do weird things. So he stopped. And slowly slid backwards on Jake's lap until his back was against Jake's shoulders again.

"Dude," John mumbled, "you're weird." There was a pause where Jake took a deep breath. Inhale…exhale…. It tickled John's neck and he shivered.

"Very," Jake agreed, his arms slowly returning to their comfortable wrap about John's middle. "And I'm sorry."

"'S okay, I guess." John swallowed. "I think I'm…kinda weird too…."

There was a shudder of breath between the two of them. John thought about the blanket tangled around their feet, how his own toes weren't even touching the ground. And then he only thought about Jake's bigger hands as they smoothed down the front of his shirt—slowly—until they were brushing over John's hands, fisted together to hide his erection.

Trembling, John let his guard fall away, becoming slack against Jake's chest as he did. What was he doing? He didn't even know. He was just…doing whatever. He stopping thinking, remember?

When Jake's fingers came to rest against the bulge in John's pants, he didn't think about how weird this was for the billion reasons that it was weird for. He just gasped and let his hands grip at Jake's knees, feeling another push of Jake's hardness against his rear.

"John," came the breathless whisper in his ear, "I would like to touch you more. Is that…is that acceptable?"

John almost felt like laughing. Ever the gentleman….

"Yeah," John said, mostly inaudible. It must've flipped a switch in the older boy because suddenly that hesitancy was gone. Jake's hand pressed down on him and the other slipped John's sweaty t-shirt up to his chin, exposing his chest to the chilly air.

"I want to make you feel better. So you have to tell me when it's working," Jake lulled. That and a grazing bite at the shell of John's ear made John buck up into Jake's hand, a raspy moan escaping his mouth as he did.

"Jake, I—"

"Tell me," Jake repeated, a darkness in his voice that John never knew existed slithering out. Thick fingers pushed past the flimsy waistline of John's pants and into his boxers until those clothes were hanging off John's feet with the blanket. "Spread those legs wider and tell me."

"Ah…feels g-good," John complied, leaning back even further so he could comply with Jake's commands. Those strong fingers stroked up and down of John's thigh in firm, slow caresses. From his knee to the sensitive bend at his crotch and the aching throb of his dick.

Jake's other hand stroked gently at the perking bud of John's nipple. His mouth found a hidden spot on John's neck and he pressed his tongue against it. All the while, the younger boy on his lap squirmed and shivered, the trembling so mad that his teeth chattered.

Jake wrapped his fingers around John's erection, thumbing at the head where the milky drip of precum already slipped down the curve. Jake hooked his chin over John's shoulder to get a better look at the beautifully arched body of the boy on his lap.

"Look at you, lovely," he murmured against John's neck, kissing there and drawing another shuddering gasp from John's wet lips. "Pale and fever-flushed…. We should just sweat it out of you; that'll do the trick."

John thrust mindlessly into Jake's fist, grinding back on the clothed erection pressing against his ass with every downstroke.

"Oh, Jake…I…I'm…."

"Not so fast there, lad," Jake said, letting go and making John practically sob with frustration. "Come now, if it were that easy it wouldn't be any fun."

John—breathing heavily with a heartbeat like a hummingbird underneath Jake's teasing fingers that still lingered on his shivering chest—turned his head a little to look Jake in the eyes.

His glasses were fogged. Chuckling, Jake pulled them from John's face and set them aside.

"You're shaking like a leaf," he said to John. Concern flashed through the deep green of Jake's eyes. "Are you…are you sure this is alright?"

John took long, shuddering breaths and closed his eyes for a few seconds as he gathered himself together again and calmed. Then his eyes opened again and he narrowed them at the teenager.

"Jake, you're twisted," John said. There was a flicker of a smirk in the corner of John's mouth and Jake laughed.

"Yes, I have been informed such," he said, pulling John's shirt off the rest of the way before turning the boy about in his lap.

"By who?" John asked incredulously, his arms immediately slinging around Jake's neck as Jake's wrapped around John's lower back.

"A whole slew of people who don't amount to sluff and toss-offs compared to you." Jake leaned in. John leaned away. Jake stopped. Suddenly, that confidence he'd been sporting was drowned in the sudden darkness and dilation of Jake's pupils. He completely froze.

John's brow scrunched a bit as he looked at Jake in confusion. Why the heck did he stop?

…oh.

"Oh, no, no!" John said quickly. "No, I mean, it's fine, but uh…" he blushed and gazed off to one side, biting on his lip. "I'm sick and my mouth is gross and…just…not now."

Jake exhaled the breath he'd been holding and rolled his eyes.

"Very well. Tilt your head back, then."

Blushing, John obeyed, and Jake leaned in again, nipping at the soft flesh just where John's throat met his chin. He tongued it, wrapping his lips and sucking a little. John moaned softly and brought himself closer, tucking his legs up around Jake's sides and bumping his neglected erection against Jake's middle.

Jake hands moved. One slid lower, fondling the slight curve of John's ass while the other fumbled around a bit between them, nudging John's cock every now and then, making the younger boy whimper with each glancing touch. But then John felt a heat like no other and found himself trying to look down over Jake's mouthing of his neck to see. It was a bit difficult, but John could definitely feel the weight of Jake's dick against his own and then the accompanying grip of Jake's fingers around the two of them.

Something hitched in John's gut, pitching right into his head and making him dizzy. He became mindless, a step beyond the not-thinking policy he decided to implement earlier. Now it had nothing to with 'what the fuck are you doing?' It was just 'whatever the fuck you're doing, don't let it end.'

His hips jerked and convulsed up against Jake's erection and in those sticky and sweaty wild-boy fingers. Over and over again, like the steady pressure building inside. John heard Jake groan against the spot on his neck that he refused to let go of. John scraped his blunt fingernails over the shirt on Jake's shoulders and clenched them, wishing in the tiny bit of his mind that still functioned that he could've been gripping Jake's skin.

Jake's pace became steadily faster; the slick sound of his fingers around their cocks was driving John absolutely insane. He shamelessly humped the older boy's lap, the rough fabric of Jake's pants chafing his thighs. And when Jake shifted, the hand that had been cupping John's ass slid, dipping into the cleft and pressing just so against John's hole, John lost it.

The moan that choked out of John was weak and breathless, dampened by the soreness of his throat and the coating of mucous that lined it. But it only made the gasp sound more desperate.

As John came, twitching and almost falling right off Jake's lap with how hard he arched his back, Jake bit into the pale column of John's neck. Splatters of hot liquid hit his hand and with the continued spasms of John's thrusting into his fist, Jake knew he couldn't possibly be too far behind.

He leaned back into the couch and let John's softening cock go but continued to work his own, still fingering gently at the twitching pucker of John's sphincter.

"J-Jake, wha—"

"Don't mind me, John," Jake said gently, continuing with his touches. His hand twisted a bit to coat the bit of John's cum that got on his fingers over his still burgeoning erection. "Nothing against you, but I've got a bit more stamina in me." Jake winked.

John, still gripping Jake's shoulders, relinquished one hand to cautiously reach to where Jake was still tending to himself. Jake's eyes widened, unnoticed by John, who had all of his attention focused on the dark purple of Jake's—Jesus Christ, HUGE—cock. He timidly pushed Jake's fingers aside and took their place.

John looked back up at the expression of astonishment on Jake's face and gave him a shy smile. His other hand lifted and took glasses off Jake's face, putting them with his own pair before he pressed forward and put his lips to Jake's ear.

"Tell me when it feels good," John whispered, his tongue flicking out against Jake's earlobe.

"Oh…" Jake sighed, his whole hand dipping under John to curve around those hot, hidden spaces of him, "it feels so good, John…."

John moaned softly and strung a line of kisses down Jake's neck until he reached the nape. Then he bit, sucking hard at the tanned curve as he continued pumping his hand around Jake's length. He went slow and sped up, alternating between the two and rubbing his thumb at the ridge of head, like he would do to himself when he woke up with the problem they'd solved earlier.

All the while, he pushed himself in mirroring dips back into Jake's hand, feeling the rough tips of Jake's fingers brush against his balls and begin a twitching renewal of his erection. Jake's other hand gripped the other cheek of John's ass and squeezed at it.

The groans that Jake made were steadily becoming shorter and deeper and John took some initiative, slipping his fingers up to press into Jake's mouth. He couldn't kiss him, but this would be at least a little close.

Jake's mouth opened and his head fell back, tongue pressing desperately against the digits John had slid into him. His hips jerked up one last time and he came with a long, moaning exhale.

The bit that splattered on John's naked stomach startled him a little. But when he pulled back and slid his saliva-coated fingers through the mess, Jake gave him this look like he was going to eat him. For whatever reason, it just made John smile.

"Good, then?" he asked, the flush on his cheeks deep and fevered.

"Cheeky little blighter," Jake scolded with a smirk. He reached over and snagged John's fingers, bringing them back to his mouth and sucking the slippery stuff away.

"Ew, Jake, that's nasty," John said, screwing up his face in disgust, but still blushing just as hard.

"You should see some of the other stuff I'll do, old boy." Another wink. John's heart fluttered madly behind his ribs and he wrapped his whole body around Jake, pressing his face to his chest and the humming chuckles that rang out through the warmth of Jake's skin.

"Maybe when I'm not sick," John muttered.

"Well, I have some excellent home remedies to fix you up quick as a snap," Jake said, folding his arms around the boy again, keeping him close. The deviance in his tone was so poorly disguised that John laughed aloud.

"Of course you do, Jake."


End file.
